a monster, a car & a dog (this is trauma...so read on)

“Don’t give the monster teeth” was the modus operandi that ran through her mind when she’d get into the driver’s seat of her car. That mere act reminded her of the accident; the one where she was riding north on the 5 freeway only to get blindsided by a big mack truck. Next thing she knew she was trapped under the crunch of metal, blood everywhere, and oy, vey, did her head hurt from the impact of hitting the dashboard. No one came for what felt like days. She was alone with the thought of, “I’m going to die right here on top of the cement”. She had never experienced fear like she did in that moment. Recovery took months, not just physically, but mentally. She wanted to drive again, really, she did. It’s just that each time she got into a car she was met with trembling from the top of her head all the way down to her toes. Her body was holding the memories, she was told by her therapist, and slowly but surely she was feeling safe enough to let them go and get back to living. She’s grateful for her trauma. Not many people can walk around saying that. She knows it has made her who she is today and has provided her with opportunities she wouldn’t have had if she didn’t face her pain, her nightmares and her disconnect from the world. “Hello, monster! I’m simply not afraid of you anymore. You can have a seat on my shoulder and have a cup of tea,” she thought. Those around her could feel the difference in her. She was driving again, what with the wind at her back from her new shiny red convertible. It was her reward for taking small trips to the grocery store and then longer trips to visit her sister. The biggest trip, however, was driving on the 5 right past the sight of where it all went down. The monster was replaced by a black, furry friend sitting next to her in the passenger seat, smiling through its barks of excitement when she said, “Car ride?” Yes, she was living. She was even laughing again. And, it felt so very good. . . .